


A Moment in Time

by Kylie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, M/M, PWP, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 20:13:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12712155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kylie/pseuds/Kylie
Summary: Tony is leaving New York, and during his last night at Stark Tower Loki shows up and things get steamy pretty quickly. They've always had so much in common, and Loki still wants him. But why does Tony's heart keep aching for a certain super soldier he can't have?Takes place shortly after Civil War.





	A Moment in Time

**Author's Note:**

> Minor AU elements, concerning the Avengers living arrangements and what happened to Loki after the battle of New York.

Tony was celebrating. The sale had gone particularly well. Definitely worth a glass of whisky or four. But who was counting? He took another sip and stared out at the New York skyline beyond the full length windows of the penthouse. 

He was probably going to miss it. The lights in the living room were dimmed, and millions of windows, neon adverts and street signs illuminated the night beyond. Tony downed his drink. Malibu was better. The house rebuilt, the workshop rebuilt. He'll go back, and never have to set foot in Av... Stark Tower ever again. 

He brought the glass to his lips, and cursed when he found it empty. Walking back to the bar seemed like too much of an effort. He sighed, placing his palm flat on the glass. He should arrange everything to be taken out of the Tower’s workshop and flown to the west coast. It’s just that he couldn’t exactly make himself go and sort through all the prototypes, all the improvements to everyone’s gear he’d left unfinished down there. Tony screwed his eyes shut. The appeal of another drink was fast winning over his unwillingness to make those fifteen steps and a short climb up to the bar. 

Tony bounced on his heels, pushing himself away from the window. His eyes peeled reluctantly open and he yelped, cursing and jumping away from the shards of glass his tumbler had exploded into upon hitting the floor. Behind him clearly reflected in the dark window stood a tall lean very familiar figure. Tony turned around. 

“Shall I call Thor with the happy news?” He inquired, composing himself quickly. “I’m sure he’d be overjoyed to hear his dear brother is alive.”

Tony stepped away from the broken glass, affecting a casual pose. He was wearing his repulsor watch and the suit was just round the corner if he needed it. But somehow Tony was sure that he didn’t.  
Loki was smiling at him. No horns, no armor, just dark trousers and a green tunic. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat. But after everything that had happened, Tony kind of missed the Loki type of threat.

“Swallowed your tongue?” Tony tested the waters, as he moved past Loki to the bar.

“It doesn’t matter if you tell Thor,” Loki spoke up. 

“Yeah, I suppose,” Tony shrugged, taking out two new glasses and a half-empty bottle of whisky. “Although I guess he’d care more about you than the petty human squabbles we’ve been having over here. Drink?”

Loki nodded and followed Tony when he waved him over to the lounge area in the middle of the living room space. Tony filled the glasses and quickly took a large gulp of whisky, settling on the plush carpet with his back against the sofa. Loki sat cross-legged beside him and accepted the other glass. He looked the same as he had before, handsome features, hair maybe a bit longer; the smile lingered on his lips.

“I’ve travelled a long way, Stark...” Loki started, but Tony cut him off.

“Cut the crap, Loki,” Tony said, pouring himself more whisky. “Wherever you’ve been, you’ve been monitoring us. Unlike your brother, I should say. But if you think you can kick our asses now that we’re divided, think again.”

It’d been years since Tony had last heard Loki laugh, but it still did weird, very complicated things to him. 

“I have to admit,” Loki drawled, voice deep and dark, “I am here because of the divisions in your ranks. But I am not here to fight.”

Tony closed his eyes, and leaned back against the sofa, a fire ignited instantly under his skin. “Come on then, come here.”

Warm breath ghosted the corner of Tony’s mouth. Blindly he reached for the kiss, but met only air. Tony opened his eyes. Loki was very close, staring down at him, but made no move to touch. Tony leaned up again, but Loki sat back down on the carpet.

Tony raised his hands in a half-shrug and reached for his drink. “Mixed signals, Loki.”

“I missed you,” Loki said, startling Tony with his sincere tone. Tony huffed, and Loki’s long fingers gently caressed his cheek. “And so I came,” Tony forced out a slow exhale and leaned into the touch. 

It had been fun. Brief but fun between the two of them. Thor had been trying to rehabilitate his brother on Earth and Loki was trying to get as far away from him as he could. Tony’s workshop must have seemed like a good hideout, and Tony was up for an adventure. Like a hot Norse god, or well a hot alien in his bed. 

And then Steve came back from his road trip. 

“Seriously Loki, I’m a busy man,” Tony said. 

"Yes, I know," Loki agreed, "but not tonight. Tonight I've got you." And that went straight to Tony’s groin.

Loki picked up the bottle of whisky and halved what was left in it in one long swig. Asgardians, Tony thought in exasperation.

"You're going to the bar to get another bottle," he muttered.

Loki's hand crept down from Tony's cheek to the back of his neck and started kneading. Fuck, that felt good. They sat like that for a while. 

Tony’s thoughts wondered. Loki. The move. The prototypes in the workshop. The phone in his desk. How much more whisky he could drink before he passed out on his guest. He let out an occasional soft sigh, his head spinning faintly from booze, lack of sleep, his lingering injuries and the painkillers he'd taken to deal with them. Loki was silent, his fingers strong and steady. 

It was Tony of course who broke the silence. "You've done lots of stupid shit," he started and hissed as Loki's fingers dug in a little sharper, "so I guess you're the right person to ask. What the hell do I do now?"

Loki chuckled. "Tell me, Stark."

"Tell you what?" 

"You don't want my advice," Loki said, "but maybe you need to talk."

"Gathering intel?" Tony questioned half-heartedly. 

"I'll get another bottle, " Loki's smile was knowing. 

Tony missed his hand when he stood up. He liked Loki's hands. 

"Why are you not dead?" Tony called out, not turning around to look as Loki retrieved a fresh bottle of whisky. 

"Because I'm smart," Loki replied easily, walking back down. He didn't bother with glasses, took a swig right from the bottle and handed it over to Tony, who did the same. 

"I thought I was too," Tony said, surprising himself, "laying out the plans, preparing my arguments, shaping the world, like the futurist that I am." God, he sounded bitter. 

"You thought they were your friends and they threw you to the wolves," Loki said. 

"Can it, Reindeer Games," Tony snapped. He was drunk and hurt and annoyed and Loki's hands were back, right there. "He lied, you know. And now he's... they're all gone.” When had Loki straddled his hips? "Mmm, Loki..."

Loki's lips caressed his jawline, so soft, gentle. Tony squeezed his ass, pulling him in and Loki went, pliant under Tony's hands in an instant. "Fuck, Loki," Tony groaned. "I've no idea what's going on here. For all I know you're dead and it’s all a drunken fantasy. And fuck knows why I'm dreaming of you."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Loki. A pause, and then he bit Tony's earlobe. "Does that feel real enough for you?"

"Yeah," Tony's hands snaked under Loki's tunic, mapping the contours of his spine, his shoulder blades. "I remember all these jutting bones."

Loki let out an aborted groan into his neck and rubbed himself against Tony. He was hot and hard in Tony's lap, and it felt good to have someone in his arms, someone willing and wanton and alive. "Come on, come here," Tony murmured into soft black hair, urging Loki's head up, so he could claim his mouth in a hard kiss. 

Tony's hands migrated to Loki's shoulders, rubbing up and down their sharp angles… and not the broad expanse he was longing for. Fuck. Tony pulled away and for a disoriented second Loki tried to follow, eyes clouded and mouth swollen red. Tony bit his own lip.

"I need another drink," Tony muttered, slumping against the sofa. He stared up at the ceiling. It wasn't fucking fair. 

Loki wiggled on top of him and instead of a punch to the jaw that Tony felt he deserved, Loki's mouth descended on him. Tony opened up reflexively and a trickle of whisky burned down his throat. Tony moaned, licking the alcohol from Loki's wicked mouth, suddenly desperate for more. More contact, more drink, more everything. And Loki obliged, writhing deliciously, feeding Tony more whisky. 

Tony's head was cloudy, senses overwhelmed. And he remembered vividly how they'd been before. How hot, how dirty and creative Loki would get. And how once or twice he'd put his palm on Tony's cheek and stare into his eyes, like he was doing now. And also how Tony's voice, Tony's words would make him come undone. 

"Beautiful," Tony praised breathlessly, "come on, want to feel how hot you are, as I push inside."

Loki shuddered, grabbing his shoulders painfully and Tony couldn't shut up, giddy and wild and drunk. "Yeah, you're all hard and hot just for me." He tugged at Loki's hair painfully and he hissed and bucked. 

Tony's mouth was running free, as Loki stripped clumsily, his hands actually shaking with excitement, as he opened Tony's jeans, tugged them down his hips. Tony took himself in hand, needing some relief, while Loki produced a vial out of his discarded trousers and Tony whined as he watched him reach out behind and push those long oiled fingers inside himself. Tony kissed his neck, his chest, as Loki stretched himself quickly, sloppy with the oil, groaning and shaking. So honest and open, so sensitive, responsive to every touch. 

Not like someone Tony would have to coax and loosen up and teach. He banged his head furiously on the soft cushions behind him. 

"You're ready, come on!" Tony snarled, broke off. "Shit, are you ready? I need..."

"Yes," Loki breathed. In one smooth motion he was hovering over Tony, his slick right hand slathered Tony's cock and then he was pushing down. Tight, shuddering, cursing. Bloody hell, Tony had missed how good Loki felt around him. "I too have missed it," Loki groaned and Tony realized he must have spoken out loud.

Tony grunted out praise and approval, as he pushed up into Loki's yielding heat. Loki clutched at his shoulders, making a raw sound deep in his throat. Then Tony was sheathed to the root. Loki took no time to adjust, Tony remembered this from before. Fucking missed the wild ride that was Loki. 

Tony just let it all wash over him, thrust up, as Loki fucked himself on his cock. Tony stared up at the abandon on Loki's face, black locks in complete disarray, pale cheeks flushed and lips bitten red. Tony squeezed Loki's ass cheeks, pulling him down, thrusting impossibly deeper. Tony just needed to lose himself in this, just needed Loki to give him everything. 

"Tony, Tony, Tony..." 

Tony didn't realize it at first, but his name was a broken litany on Loki's lips. Tony cursed. That just wasn't right, but damn if it wasn't hot. Loki looked so overwhelmed, so wrecked. 

"You're so good, I'll make you come so hard," Tony promised, out of breath and nearly out of his mind with arousal. 

Loki whined and clutched at Tony's t-shirt, bunching the fabric right in the middle of his chest, where the arc reactor used to sit. Tony was so used to keeping his shirt on during sex, unwilling to expose the reactor, he still hadn't dropped the habit. But did Loki know the reactor was gone? Well, he did now, as he splayed his palm over the flat surface of Tony's chest, no metal under the cotton, just skin and scars. And Tony wanted to be touched there, wanted Loki's hand there without the fabric in the way...

But there was something he'd promised Loki. 

Loki screamed, as Tony reached for his leaking cock, stroked him, squeezing hard. Tony's other hand fisted in Loki's hair, sealing their mouths together. He drank Loki's moans like whisky, and Loki shook, frantically pushing into Tony's hand, Tony's mouth, onto Tony’s cock. Tony bit his lower lip, hard, and Loki was spilling hot and sticky between them, squeezing Tony, pulsing around him and Tony saw stars. 

"Sweet Jesus, fuck!" And Tony was coming and coming. 

Tony came back to his senses to a lapful of hot heavy Norse god slumped and panting against him. Mindlessly Tony petted his hair, his back, just breathing Loki's scent (leather, sweat, winter) for long minutes. On a whim he reached for Loki's hand and dragged it under his own shirt, splayed it out there, right in the middle. Loki's hand moved slowly, rubbing the heel of his palm against Tony's sternum. It made something hitch in his throat. 

Suddenly Loki rose up from him, making them both hiss. But in a second he was pulling Tony's shirt up and replacing his hand on Tony's chest with his mouth. 

"Shit," Tony chocked, digging his fingers into Loki's scalp, lingering there, unable to decide whether to pull him in closer or to push him away. It felt suddenly more intimate than what they’d just done. Finally, Tony lifted Loki's face up and planted a gentle kiss onto his lips. Loki let go of the t-shirt and it fell back to cover Tony's chest. He breathed easier. 

Loki didn't comment on the lack of reactor. Instead he grabbed some napkins off the coffee table and cleaned them up, then he settled down next to Tony, slowly as if hesitantly lowering his head onto Tony's shoulder. Tony pulled his jeans up, but Loki remained naked beside him.

Tony drifted. Loki's breath tickled his neck. His back was starting to send him painful signals, but he was loath to move. It felt nice. But he knew it wasn't going to last, errant thoughts were already starting to chip away at the afterglow. 

To Tony's surprise it was Loki who broke the silence. 

"I would take you with me, Tony," his voice was soft and very serious, "install you in a palace and bed you day and night."

"So there's a palace, eh?" Tony asked. “Palaces have throne rooms, right? So I’m game, if I get to fuck you on a throne.”

Loki chuckled, “It would be glorious.”

Tony smirked, "Of course it would.” After a beat he added, “It would also be away from here, which sounds quite appealing."

"Away from here..." Loki echoed wistfully and something like a cloud fell over their banter. 

"Come visit me in Malibu, you'll like it," Tony said. 

"Why are you leaving?" Loki asked and Tony laughed mirthlessly. But he was still far too relaxed, and it had always been easy to talk to Loki. 

"Too many memories here… And Malibu is so much more fun," Tony replied. "I'll go surfing and get drunk at beach parties."

"You're running away," Loki stated. 

"Not as far as you'd like me to," Tony countered and Loki grinned. "You know," Tony said after a pause, "it's like I had this thing..." he broke off, frowning, "Someone once told me that I was a man who had everything, and nothing. But while we were all here together, it didn't feel like it was true anymore."

Loki didn't reply, but he was solid against Tony's side and that was kind of enough. 

"Don't tell Thor," Loki said suddenly, "but I enjoyed my time in Avengers Tower too."

"Don't think that's his achievement," Tony smirked and Loki rolled his eyes. "For the record I'm glad you're not dead." 

"I am also glad that you aren't," Loki said and gently traced the outline of a bruise under Tony's eye. Yeah, got out alive and in one piece, what a major bloody victory. 

"Ah, my back," Tony grimaced. He extricated himself from Loki and stood up, stretching. Grabbing a bottle from the coffee table, he sat on the sofa and took a gulp of whisky. 

Loki stood up too, and started dressing. His expression had closed off, and Tony felt bad immediately for pulling away from his touch. Tony made a show of stretching, deposited his bottle on the carpet and fell forward onto the sofa. 

"Loki, how about a massage?" Tony's voice was muffled by the cushions under his face. 

"I'm not your personal servant," Loki retorted. 

"More's the pity," Tony quipped, "but hey, you owe me. It was you who decided to have sex on the floor. My back is busted."

Tony wasn't surprised when Loki's weight settled on his hips. It felt amazing when Loki started kneading his shoulders, his back. Tony groaned and told him so immediately. Clinically unable to not talk Tony started going on about experimenting with Loki's scepter and how he hated all that sorcery shit and about the prototype magic detector he'd been working on and how it kept pointing to Greenwich Village for some reason. 

Loki made only a few comments throughout, but continued to rub the stiff muscles of his back as Tony babbled, and it felt comfortable and cozy like few things had been in a while. From time to time Loki’s hands snaked into his hair, or under his collar, or across his jaw, brief but surprisingly warm caresses. How was it that it felt easier to love a trickster god than a righteous man?

Tony shifted, turning awkwardly onto his back, but Loki accommodated him. “Would you like another round?” Loki questioned, looking down at him and licking his lips in a very appealing manner.

“Not up for it tonight, I’m afraid,” Tony had to admit. “Will you stay though?” He asked a little self-consciously, running his hands up and down Loki’s thighs, “I’d like you to.”

Instead of answering Loki shuffled down, kicking Tony’s legs open, and lay down on top of him, head pillowed on Tony’s chest. Tony’s left leg hung down from the sofa, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, in fact Loki’s weight on top of him felt welcome, like a longed-for comfort he’d been afraid to ask for.

Loki’s right hand wormed its way under Tony’s t-shirt at his side. “Thank you,” Tony murmured, placing his own hand onto Loki’s back, petting him for a moment.

“Good night, Tony,” Loki breathed deeply and relaxed fully against him.

Tony lay there, staring at the ceiling until Loki’s breath evened out in sleep. Tony wasn’t sure he’d sleep tonight, he hadn’t really been sleeping lately. But he was loath to move. He reached down for a bottle he’d left by the side of the sofa and took an awkward swig. Loki’s arm tightened around him and he nuzzled into Tony’s chest with a near silent whimper, that Tony felt more than heard.

Tomorrow he’d pack up the last of his personal belongings, take that crappy little phone out of the desk and put it in his pocket, and leave the Tower for the last time. 

He’d still look out for Vision and Peter. And he’d have to keep negotiating, but he was looking forward to dealing with the UN while being on the opposite coast from them. He’d install Friday in the new Malibu house, settle into the workshop and work on improvements to Rhodey’s prosthetics and on making his own repulsors sturdier. He could even test them, he had the shield to hit them with. Since it landed in his possession though, he hadn’t actually touched it or any of the force field experiments he’s been running for it before.

What he’d do is invent something brilliant that’d blow the R&D’s mind. And maybe he’d set that magic tracker to Loki’s frequency if he could figure out how. 

The bottle dangled loosely from his fingers and he took an occasional swallow. The plans were chasing each other in Tony’s head, Loki’s breath was slowly lulling him and in the end he drifted. He wasn’t sure he slept, but warmth enveloped him and for once no demons lingered at the soft edges of his consciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this when I saw this awesome art! http://fahrnight.tumblr.com/image/54428434920


End file.
